Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) Page 23

  He continued to remain silent.

  “Seth, what’s wrong? You’re so far away.” Despite her manners, she found her concern overrode her respect for his privacy and the nagging guilt with his determination to be her protector.

  “I have something to tell you. Something we need to talk about, you and I…”

  “What’s going on, Seth? You’re frightening me.” And he was, she thought quickly. Nerves kicked up in her stomach, like butterflies in mad flight. “Has something happened concerning Casey? Will Cole press charges after all?”

  “No, Casey’s fine. But Ty delivered a message from Cole a little while ago.” Seth looked directly at her. “He’d had a visit from Brannon.”

  “The Ranger? They’ve found out something about who killed my father?” She clasped her hands together. Her eyes brightened as she turned fully toward him at that point. Perhaps that’s what Brannon had wanted to speak with her about. She’d been too hasty in her idea that he was dangerous.

  “No.” Seth’s voice grew irritated. “Just let me finish, okay?”

  Celia nodded. Unsettled by his moodiness, she waited.

  The stick he held in his hand was tossed out into the water. Scowling after it, he turned his full attention on her. “Somehow Brannon knows you’re Red Bear’s cousin. He wants – no insists – you scout for them.” Without a pause, he rushed on to explain. “He’s ruthless and devious. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.” His brow creased in concern. “Word is he seizes female Indians – kidnaps them, if you will. His pretense is that he’s transporting them to the reservations in Oklahoma which falls under his duties as a ranger. Rumor is he’s actually kidnapping them for…for his own use and then sells them to the Mexicans.”

  Celia’s insides began to congeal. The fact that Brannon wanted her to help him find Red Bear was bad enough, but Seth was implying that these supposed lawmen used the women they took for sex and then sold them when they were through. It was like a tale out of a dime novel – all melodramatic and fanciful for certain. But this was more and a chilling sensation replaced the sense of mild self-reproach she’d enjoyed only minutes before. Irritation and realization at how close she’d come to being one of his concubines replaced her sense of worldly balance. The fact was she’d narrowly escaped the man and now was in real jeopardy of being taken and it was all lawful in Texas.

  “Well, I’ll just leave.” Celia’s head came up and she shook her dark hair from side-to-side. “I’ll have to tell Red Bear. The People and he are in danger.” She looked into his eyes now, hoping hers were steady as a rock. “I’ll have to go back east now.”

  Seth scrubbed at his face. “This was what I was afraid of. You don’t understand this man’s power. He’s the law here in Texas and his authority is Federal as well. He would simply have you detained and returned. You can’t go gallivanting off looking for Red Bear either. You’ll lead Brannon right to him. Besides, you don’t know where to start.”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze. Looking down, she realized, she’d never finished telling him about the night she met Red Bear and what he’d said about the Comanche’s rendezvous near Antelope Hill.

  “Celia, look at me.” Now his tone was commanding.

  She flinched as she met his gaze.

  “I have a plan.” Taking a deep breath, he plowed on. “As the wife of a Texas rancher, you would be safe. You could do nothing that your husband didn’t agree to. That includes scouting for the Rangers.” He reached out and took her arm gently. “I’ve arranged for us to be married.”

  The blood drained from her face. Her spine stiffened. He’d gone mad!

  “We’ll be married tomorrow in Charles Harrison’s office. I’ve already spoken to him. He’s a close friend of mine. He’s agreed to perform the ceremony and file the papers in the courthouse.” He took a breath and watched her.

  Celia closed her eyes. It hurt too much to look at him. She wanted to rage at the heavens, scream at the four winds. The Great Spirit had played a cruel joke with this turn of events. “Your need to keep me safe has overrode your reason, Seth. I can’t marry you.”

  “You’ll be the wife of a Texas rancher. Not even Brannon can come in and demand that you go with him,” he repeated.

  Celia clutched at the grass near her dress for an anchor. Marriage! Her world was spinning out of control faster than she’d ever dreamed possible. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was asking her to be his wife. Where had this crazy idea come from? Oh, yes, the threat of Texas Rangers. It was necessary. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He was still trying to keep her safe. A soft sigh escaped her. Her mouth was as dry as desert sand. Celia watched as the muscle in his jaw worked in quick sharp twinges.

  “I know how crazy this sounds, but it’s the only way. We haven’t much time. The Rangers are the long arm of the law around these parts and Brannon can pretty much do as he pleases.” Seth’s next look gave her already knotted stomach a new level of constriction. His features were grim and as serious as she’d ever seen them. “Being half Comanche means that you have no rights in this matter. You are at their mercy.”

  At their mercy! Celia’s mind screamed the words out. Where had the sensible, reliable Seth gone? She bit her lip as she contemplated the possibility of marriage to him, marriage, a married woman, his woman, Seth’s wife. With her mind reeling, Celia closed her eyes tight. He wanted to marry her.

  “Of course, the marriage would be a business agreement, simply contrived to protect you. The marriage would be in name only and when the danger is passed, you’d be free to get an annulment. I’ve seen to the wording of the document, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  Celia’s eyes flew open and her spin stiffen again. The fanciful dream she harbored of the whole affair popped like someone had let the air out of a bag. Visions and pearly white illusions, which had flitted through her thoughts only moments ago, dissolved and disappeared like the wisps of a fairy tale.

  “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” His voice had an edge to it.

  She cast cool eyes Seth’s way. This man thought he knew everything. Well she had a thing or two to teach him about Celia, daughter of Lone Eagle. “Yes, I think I do. The marriage will be in name only.”

  “Right.” His Adam’s apple bobbed profusely. “Look, I understand your concern. Remember, the marriage will be purely business meant to keep you safe.”

  Seth’s eyes grew larger than usual. No doubt, he was scared shiftless. “To keep me safe…?” She realized too late, she sounded much like a parrot as she repeated the words. She made him wait several minutes while he fidgeted and stewed. Finally, Celia nodded solemnly. Her face was a perfect example of seriousness. “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do for me.” Her voice rang flat to her own ears, but she kept her eyes on his. “Would you mind if I asked for a few minutes alone?”

  Shaking his head, he got up. “No, I don’t mind.”

  The only outward sign of distress on his part, as he backed out of sight in the growing darkness, were his fingers running around the brim of his Stetson. He looked like he was about to bolt, she mused. Could she blame him? Ever since her arrival, she’d brought nothing but trouble to his door. Now he was marrying her, but not for love, rather for some convoluted plan to keep her safe once again. She must be dreaming, but if she was, it was fast becoming a nightmare. She had to admit she’d wanted to believe there was more to his proposal than just protection, a business agreement. Celia set her mouth hard over the proposition of marriage to Seth. She thought back to the two of them in the alley. Even if their encounter had only been lustful, she knew there were marriages based on far less and they’d survived. What did she have to lose, she mused. The man was offering security and protection. She could do much worse.

  A twig snapped, heralding his return.

  She looked up from her seat and smiled weakly. “I will marry you, Seth.”

  Chapter 10

  False Truths
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br />   What kind of wife would she be? She stood in front of the looking glass and asked herself that question while Maggie fused over the dress and her veil. Most brides were happily nervous on their wedding day. Most brides certainly weren’t Celia. She’d lay awake most of the night thinking. In her mind, she knew she was making a mistake. Still, if there was even a glimmer of a chance that Seth would care for her, she would take it. Rather pathetic, wasn’t she?

  Performed in record time, the ceremony seemed surreal. Ty and Maggie stood up for the couple. Joseph and Cutter stayed close and preceded them back to the hotel with his own rendition of the traditional Comanche celebration march. It was all over before she could consider what had happened. Standing by his side, she’d recited the vows that made them man and wife. Everything was a blur of words and signatures, every moment - so surreal. She’d wished for her wedding day, even foolishly dreamed of it for so long. Unfortunately, her vision of the day had been very different. There would’ve been flowers – she’d always dreamed of roses. Friends would’ve congratulated the couple. The festivities definitely included cake. Seth would’ve swept her up in the first dance while everyone cheered.

  Instead, there’d been a kiss from Maggie and hugs from her new brother-in-law, Ty. She thought of her father. Was he watching this ruse unfold? What did he make of the arrangement? Her thoughts were broken up as her new husband put an arm around her waist while the small wedding party made their way back to the hotel. He wanted to pretend for others, she mused. ‘A business arrangement’ he’d called it. She was agreeing to a theatrical performance to insure that she would be safe.

  He’d already shown her that she could depend on him. Safety, Celia knew, was something she, like most women, should be grateful for. Texas wasn’t a place to take one’s safety for granted. He’d made a commitment to her and she should thank him. She would, she mused, the first chance she got.

  Dinner arrived for the newlyweds back in the honeymoon suite at the hotel. Maggie bustled about trying to make her feel comfortable. The housekeeper chatted cheerily while she went about her duties getting the new bride ready for her wedding night.

  Celia paid little attention as she walked slowly about the room taking in the beautiful brocade of the drapes at the window to the honeymoon suite. Idly she touched the satin pillowcases and glanced absently at the lovely duvet on the massive oak bed. Of course, she wouldn’t have to concern herself with the use of that bed for anything except sleeping. She wrapped her arms tightly about her corset. A heavy pain settled in her chest.

  Maggie hummed to herself as she busily went about seeing to Celia’s toiletry. Laying the newly purchased nightgown of gossamer silk on the foot of the bed, Maggie turned toward her. “If there’s anything you’d like to talk about, dear, I want you to know I’d be glad to help.” The housekeeper smoothed her apron and smiled knowingly. “A young woman has a right to know what’s expected of her on her special night.” Maggie reached out to gather Celia close. “I know you’re sad because your father couldn’t be here for your special day.”

  “Maggie, I…” Celia stopped abruptly. What had she been about to do? Shaken, she stepped out of Maggie’s reach. She couldn’t speak of the multitude of emotions she had warring inside her to anyone. She couldn’t even tell Maggie. Lying went against her nature, but there was no other way. “I appreciate your thinking of me, but I’ll be all right. Don’t worry. Okay?”

  Maggie nodded for the young woman. “Bless your heart. I’ll always worry about you, dear. You’re too much like my own.” The older woman sniffed into a handkerchief.

  Ashamed at her own wallowing, Celia took the old woman’s hands in hers. “What’s this?” she goaded gently. “Tears on such a special day? There, there, don’t cry.” Pulling Maggie close, she gave her a warm hug.

  “I’ll be okay.” Over the housekeeper’s shoulder, Celia watched her reflection in the looking glass. Her husband wouldn’t want her in the way Maggie suggested. A woman was expected to submit to her husband in all things, none more so than in the marital bed. No, she wouldn’t have to be concerned with such things.

  The kiss he’d given her when the vows were complete had been warm and gentle. She still marveled at the gentleness the rough-as-nails cowboy possessed. The contact stirred warmth inside her despite her conscious effort to the contrary. How had the kiss affected him? Did he already regret his decision? She thought of their encounter in the alley. She mentally shook her head. Lust, it had only been lust. Celia closed her eyes.

  “Let’s get you into this wonderful bath and I’ll come back later and help you get ready for bed, dear.” Soon it was time for Maggie to close the door behind her.

  Celia eased back into the tub and tried to allow the warmth of the water to ebb away her anxieties. With her eyes closed and resting on a towel against the rim of the tub, she tried to relax. The day had been a whirlwind of activity. Biting her lip and trying to forget her new obligations for just a little while, she found she failed miserably.

  Maybe this was a trial by fire. The bed of coals was around here somewhere, she just had to locate them. Celia closed her eyes again and did her best to focus on allowing the warm water to do its job.

  ***

  Without knocking, Seth turned the doorknob to the Honeymoon Suite and opened the door. Stepping inside, he hesitated when he saw his new wife in the tub. She made such a fetching picture lying there asleep and oblivious to his perusal. The blood stirred in his loins. Muttering a low curse, he stepped further into the room and a loose board heralded his return.

  Celia eyes flew open. Covering her breasts first with her hands and then a nearby towel, the new bride glared at her new husband. “Don’t you ever knock?”

  A play of sarcastic amusement danced across his face as he stared back at her. With a dramatic show of bravado, he bowed low. “I’m sorry, darlin, for my untimely entrance, but since we are man and wife, it would appear strange to be caught sleeping in the hall on my wedding night, now wouldn’t it?” He could see he’d aroused hell’s own fire in her eyes. Unable to help himself, he leaned idly on the side of the bureau and watched the steam from the bath caress those tawny breasts. As he watched her breath, his need grew stronger. He heard himself groan and gripped the bureau knob hard. He would’ve pulled the whole damn drawer out of its nest if he’d thought it would’ve done any good. The need rising in him made him feel less than steady as he turned again and made his way across the room to the door once more.

  Frustration tinged with anger coated his next words. “You’ll excuse me for assuming that I might be welcome.” His eyes roamed over her lovely form in the water. “Careful, dear, you wouldn’t want to prune.” With an eyebrow raised in amused irritation, he waited; satisfied he’d touched off the next attack.

  Celia let out a huff and tossed the towel against the wall. “You and I are going to have to talk. There has to be some rules if we’re going to make this thing work. I would appreciate my privacy when I’m in the bath.”

  Slowly watching his new wife spit fire meant to melt his bull-headedness, Seth was reminded of how beautiful she was. This exotic creature was a hellcat and a trembling kitten all wrapped up in the most intriguing and infuriating female he’d ever known. From somewhere far away, he heard her speak, something about rules and privacy, but he found it encumbered his ability to enjoy the view, so he gathered up her words and packed them into a corner of his brain for later. He didn’t want anything disturbing the sight before him. What a wonderful, unexpected wedding present. The rosy glow of her skin as she blushed under the heat of the water had him mesmerized. Those lush. brown peaks swelled above the hip tub’s rim and he watched as her nipples played a seductive game of peek-a-boo with the water. He swore he could smell roses. The small wisps of silky, black hair that tumbled from her nape made his fingers itch and his need rise even further. The rap at the door effectively eliminated the vision as if the curtain had fallen on a play.

  On cue, Maggie entered to assist
Celia with preparation for bed. He found himself wishing reverently for a few more minutes to continue to enjoy his gift. The wish wasn’t to be as Maggie showed him the door.

  The next thing he knew, he found himself standing in the hallway in front of the room he’d occupied with his brother only the night before.

  ***

  “Well, brother, this looks like a prime time for a toast.” Ty produced a bottle and two shot glasses from the tray on a table near the window. Filling each, Ty took the opportunity to expound on the circumstances. “Here’s to your wedding night. To all the lovin’ you can stand, huh? Drink up…” Toasting his brother, Ty downed the stout whiskey and then let out a whoop.

  He was going to need something that was for damn sure. He threw the shot back and grimaced as the amber liquid burned his throat.

  “Can’t hurt to have a little fortification, now, can it?” Slapping his brother on the back, Ty poured him another shot. “You are one lucky hombre, Seth.”

  “What are you talking about?” Preoccupied with his own thoughts, he stood much as he had upon entering the room with his change of clothes in his arm and confusion on his face. Automatically holding the shot glass out for a refill, he found his senses all jumbled up by what he’d just left in the bedroom down the hall. How in blue blazes did he think he could pull off this ‘arrangement’? His fingers tightened convulsively around the glass.

  “You convinced her! I don’t know how, but you did.” Ty raised his glass once more in his brother’s direction. “Took some guts too, I’d wager. I’m not sure I could’ve done it. But you did.” Ty gave a throaty chuckle. “Yes, sir, you did. I’m real glad for you, brother. Earl’s rolling over in his grave, but I’m happy for you. He managed to smother the next laugh behind his hand.”